


Safe With Him

by flipflop_diva



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, F/M, Masturbation, Missions Gone Wrong, Multiple Orgasms, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, POV Steve Rogers, Penis In Vagina Sex, Protective Steve Rogers, Sex Pollen, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: When Natasha is doused with sex pollen on a mission, she asks Steve for the biggest favor she possibly could — would he be willing to be the one to help her through it?
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 125
Collections: Heat Fic Summer 2020





	Safe With Him

**Author's Note:**

  * For [downjune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/downjune/gifts).



They were three minutes too late. 

It had been twenty-four hours since she was taken, grabbed by a team of Hydra operatives in the middle of a mission as the rest of them had been distracted elsewhere. They’d spent the time since then doing everything they could to find her, none of them eating or sleeping or stopping.

When they had arrived on the premises, outside a building that looked on the surface like an old rundown warehouse but was really just a front for a high-tech operation, Tony had managed to hack into their systems and pull up video.

They could see Natasha, strapped tightly to what looked like a chair found normally in a doctor’s office. The lighting was dim, but they could make out bruises on her face. One of the men was strapping a mask over her face, and another was fiddling with a machine.

“We have to get her now!” Steve said as he watched, horror clutching his chest. 

Tony took off, flying straight for the part of the building they knew Hydra was keeping her in. Steve followed behind, ready to pummel anything that got in his way. Clint and Bruce stayed back, manning the video and waiting to act as reinforcements, if needed.

“They’ve turned it on!” Clint said into the comms just as Steve breached the front door and ran into ten people facing him.

“I got her!” Tony said, from somewhere up above the building. “Steve, you take care of them.”

“Already on it,” he grunted, swinging his shield, but his heart was pounding in his chest and he was having a hard time concentrating. What were they giving her? What were they doing to her?

He knocked them all out, almost in record time, when the sounds of more punching and yelling filled his comm.

Tony. He’d entered the room.

Steve turned and race down the halls, the mental image of the map they had studied on board the Quinjet before they landed guiding him now.

He burst into the room Hydra had been keeping Natasha in. Unconscious bodies littered the floor. Tony was locked in hand-to-hand combat with one last man in the corner.

Steve ran toward Natasha, yanking the mask off her face. She wasn’t unconscious, but she wasn’t entirely conscious either. He could hear soft moans escaping her lips, and her eyes were fluttering.

“I got you,” he told her, quickly undoing all her bindings and lifting her into his arms. 

He turned around to see Tony in front of him, his mask up, breathing heavily. 

“Give her to me. I’ll have Clint call this in,” he said.

Steve looked down at his injured friend, the idea of letting her go striking fear in his heart, but he carefully placed her into Tony’s arms, knowing he could get her back faster.

He watched Tony leave, Natasha in his arms, and then took off after them, leaping over still bodies and not bothering to care what else these operatives had been up to. There was only one thing he cared about now.

By the time he made it to the Quinjet, Natasha had been laid out on a gurney. Her eyes were half open, and she was squirming slightly, like she was trying to make herself comfortable.

Steve turned to Bruce. “What did they give her? Do we know? Do we have an antidote?” He was panting, fear seeping through his whole body.

“It’s not poison,” Bruce said immediately, and Steve felt his chest almost deflate in happiness.

“Oh, thank the gods,” he mumbled.

“I think it’s some kind of … sex pollen,” Bruce said.

“What?” Steve’s head snapped up. So did Tony’s. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve saw Natasha’s eyes open and stay open. 

Clint frowned. “That’s a real thing? I’d heard rumors when I was at the Academy, but I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s a real thing.” Bruce looked like he was struggling to explain. “It’s like a date rape drug but worse. They created something to … they wanted her to feel like she needs to have sex desperately or she’ll die.”

“What?” Steve stared at Bruce and then at Natasha, who had a very impassive look on her face. And then it hit him, and he almost retched.

“They wanted to rape her,” he said. “Without it seeming like rape.” He closed his eyes for a second, trying to steady his breathing. Clint asked the question before he could.

“But you can give her an antidote?”

Bruce shook his head. “There isn’t one.”

“What do you meant there isn’t one?” Steve said.

“You just have to let it play out.”

“Let it play out?” Steve stared at him. Was he crazy? 

“Okay,” Clint said. He glanced at Natasha, who was now looking at the ceiling, her real emotions completely guarded. “So we take her back to the Tower, get her in her room and let her … do her thing.”

“No,” Bruce said.

“No?” Steve and Clint said together.

“This drug is dangerous,” Bruce said. “She’s going to feel … insatiable. Nothing is going to be enough. If we leave her alone, she could hurt herself. It’s better if …”

“If she has sex with another person.” Tony finished Bruce’s words. Bruce nodded.

The four men turned to look at Natasha. She stopped looking at the ceiling and looked back at them.

“How long until it kicks in?” she said. She sounded eerily calm.

“It’s already kicking in,” Bruce said. “But for the full effects, maybe a half hour, if you’re lucky.”

Natasha nodded. She stared around at all four of them, and then her gaze focused on Steve.

“I want to talk to Steve,” she said. “Alone, please.”

Bruce checked his watch. “It’s twenty minutes to get back to the Tower,” he said. “We should leave …”

“Come back in five,” Natasha interrupted.

Bruce looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t. Instead he nodded, and then he, Clint and Tony exited the room and the plane, all of them glancing back a time or two before they left, finally leaving Steve and Natasha alone together.

Steve moved closer to her. Now that the others had left, emotions were starting to show on her face. He could see fear.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve said to her. He reached out and took her hand. She let him. Her hand was warm, slightly sweaty.

She studied him, and then took a breath. “I need to ask you something.”

Steve knew what it was before she said anything. His heart leapt. In fear or apprehension, he wasn’t sure.

“You want me to have sex with you when the drug hits you?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I trust you.”

Steve thought. There were so many things wrong with this. Not having sex with her — they’d had sex before and he would have sex with her every day if it was something she wanted, but to have sex with her while she was drugged … She wasn’t going to be in control of herself, she wouldn’t be able to consent, she wouldn’t be able to stop him even if she wanted to. 

Besides, they had no idea how long the effects of the drugs could last. They could be having sex for hours. He was so much stronger than her, bigger than her … if he hurt her, if he injured her, if he did something to her that she didn’t want …

A hand touched his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. He jumped slightly.

“I know it’s asking a lot,” Natasha said. “But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me. And I want it to be you. Please?”

Steve sighed, even as he looked into her eyes. He knew how much it was taking her to ask him this, to let him see her so vulnerable and to trust him to help her through it.

There really wasn’t any choice — not for her and not for him. He hated it, but he cared about her, maybe even loved her, if he let himself admit it.

“Of course,” he said. “I’ll do anything for you. You know that.”

\--

They barely made it back to the Tower in time. Natasha had been holding it together for most of the flight, although Steve had been watching her and had seen her skin become more flushed and sweaty as they went. He had thought about holding her hand or putting his arm around her but he wasn’t really sure what the protocol was and knowing that the rest of them knew they were about to have sex for a few hours was making him feel flushed as well.

But the second they landed, all that disappeared from his mind. He grabbed Natasha’s hand, told Bruce they didn’t need to be observed in a lab when JARVIS could monitor her instead and would be able to alert them if something went wrong, and then he directed them both to the elevators and up to her room as fast as he could.

He could tell the drugs had finally reached their maximum potential by the time they made it to the bedroom. Natasha was moaning, her hands between her legs, trying to grind herself against her fingers as they walked.

“Steve,” she panted, as he pushed her down on the bed, her fingers between her legs speeding up. “Please. I need you. Please.”

He debated, his mind whirling. He hadn’t exactly read a handbook on this. Would giving her an orgasm help her feel better, or should he get her out of her clothes?

Natasha was rubbing herself even harder now, her hips undulating, jerking off the bed at every stroke.

Steve crawled on the bed beside her, put his own hand between her legs, over her suit. He could feel a touch of dampness, even through the heavy fabric, and could only imagine how much pain she was in from her arousal.

He reached up to unzip her suit as her hands returned to between her legs. He tugged the zipper all the way down and then placed his hands on her skin, just below her breasts.

Her skin was so much hotter than it normally was.

He tried to ignore it, and moved his hands higher, under her sports bra and cupping her breasts, letting his thumbs brush over her nipples.

Natasha sighed, a deep satisfactory sort of sigh, and the tension in her body seemed to ease just slightly. He kept one hand working her breast as he used the other to pull her suit off her shoulders before switching sides.

It was a lot harder than expected, getting her suit off her arms and then getting her sports bra off over her head. She kept writhing and wriggling, her hands rubbing forcefully against herself, and she would cry out, with a sound of intense pain, when he moved one of her hands so he could slide her clothes off. 

But finally she was half naked, and he was able to lean forward and take a breast into his mouth, sucking on her nipple. 

That seemed to help and he felt her still, just a little. He placed one of his hands on her belly, stroking her gently, before sliding his hand down and dipping under the bottom of her suit and down past the waistband of her underwear.

The soft hairs at the crevice of her legs were already soaking wet, and as he slipped a finger down her slit, he felt himself in almost a pool of water.

Natasha moaned as he touched her, a sound that went directly to his core, making him harden almost as if she had wrapped her hand around him.

He moved his fingers up and down her slit, finding her clit and stroking her gently. He could tell it was already engorged, and he felt himself get even harder at the thought.

A wave of guilt passed over him. How could he be getting hard when her reactions were because of a drug someone gave her and not from her own free will? But yet, he was going to have to fuck her, and it would be helpful if he wanted to. And of course he wanted to …

He shook his head. There would be time to decipher his emotions about this later. Right now was about her, and Natasha’s moans were getting louder and now she was starting to cry. He could see tears in her eyes when he glanced up at her, and she was starting to struggle beneath him.

“More,” she panted. “Please.”

His mouth came off her breast with a pop and he took his fingers out of her underwear. Natasha cried out at the lack of touch, a literal sob, and reached back for herself, her hands jamming down into her underwear.

Steve took hold of her suit with both hands and pulled on it until it slipped down past her hips and her ass and he could pull it off her legs. By that time, Natasha had slipped two fingers inside herself and was fucking herself hard with them.

He grabbed hold of her underwear, which was almost soaked through by now, and gave it a yank, freeing the material from her body with a rip and tossing it to the side. Then he spread her legs open wide.

He watched for a few moments as she fingerfucked herself, her hips moving wildly. Her whole body was flushed and covered with sweat, and he could see her muscles trembling as she reached the edge of her orgasm.

He reached out a finger and slid it inside her, right beside her own fingers. 

Natasha groaned, deep and needy, as she and him both thrust inside her, and then she cried out as she shook, her orgasm passing over her.

She didn’t remove her fingers when she was done, and neither did he. Instead he added a second finger, scissoring her open, while he leaned down to suck her clit into his mouth.

She came hard a few moments later and then again a few moments after that.

After her third orgasm, her hand stilled enough that Steve slipped his own fingers out of her and removed her hand, tucking it over her breasts so she could play with her nipples.

“Are you ready?” he asked her. “Natasha?”

He knew the drugs were still coursing through her body, but he felt better at her slight nod, her eyes glistening with tears as she stared at him, her mouth gaping wide.

He spread her legs even wider, before grabbing hold of himself and placing the tip of his cock against her entrance.

She moaned, loudly, and bucked up against him as he slid his cock up and down her slit before finally pushing himself inside her.

“Steve,” she groaned as she shifted against him, and he looked at her again, her body glistening with sweat, her head thrown back, her nipples hard, her cunt locked tight around him.

“I’ve got you,” he told her softly, and he began to move.

In the end, he wasn’t sure how long it went on — the whole day was a blur of sweaty bodies and heady bliss, filled with the sounds of Natasha’s cries — most pleasurable, some painful when he didn’t bring her to release fast enough — and the feeling of her all around him — but at some point she started moving slower, her body jerking less, her cries less of pleasure and more of exhaustion.

Finally he pulled out of her for good, limp and overly sated and wanting to sleep for a year, but he used his fingers one last time to stroke over her swollen labia and over her oversensitive clit, waiting until her body spasmed one final time before her eyes closed and she went limp.

He made himself get up from the bed and go to the bathroom. He found a small cloth and soaked it with warm water before going back to the bed. Natasha had passed out in the center, her legs and her ass still hanging over the edge. 

He spread her legs one more time, this time passing the warm cloth over her to clean up as much of the mess that he could. He washed it off before returning to clean her breasts and her belly and her arms and her legs.

When he was done, he lifted her carefully from the bed and carried her out to the couch, where he laid her down on a pillow and covered her with a soft blanket. He didn’t want her sleeping on the mess they had made. He knew she would need to be looked at sooner than later — that much sex could leave damage — and he would probably have to be looked at soon too, but not now. 

Now he just wanted to make sure she was okay. 

He slipped a shirt and boxers back on and sat down on the floor beside the couch, holding her hand and stroking her hair and listening to her breathe. She stirred in her sleep, calling his name, and he murmured to her that he was there and she was safe and then he kissed her lightly on the forehead and thanked whatever gods in the universe he knew that they had gotten to her in time. He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if Hydra had been the ones with her when the drug took effect, and for now, he didn’t have to.

So he closed his eyes instead and drifted off as well, content in the thought that she was going to be okay.


End file.
